Deadly serious

After supper we then gather round the sofas again and Karl gives (in his own manner) an impassioned history of how the hyena has been neglected for decades thanks to a poor image (made worse by Disney's Lion King). This animal which forms an essential link in the chain of a healthy ecosystem has been vilified and eventually hunted to near extinction (at least in this area). However, their ability to pick a carcass clean provides a vital service to the environment that could otherwise suffer the spread of dangerous diseases. And many herbivores here have at times fallen prey to very widespread illnesses. With our first full day over we head to bed and appreciate more than ever the roof and relative warmth of our rooms.

As the blokarts take off in the wind they follow the course of a part time runway, which provides the only access here in the event of an emergency. I'm hoping that won't be today. But as the karts get further away, the scenery returns to my attention and I get that camera out. You'll get this a lot from me here and this is just day one. At every moment my jaws drops. To be able to do these things in a dirty suburban wasteland might be fun enough, but here among the mountains and the velvety grass I must have a permanent silly grin on my face. Unfortunately the wind doesn't change direction for us so those of us who didn't ride jump into the back of the truck and drive down where we tie everyone to a very long cord and drag them back. Sadly there isn't enough time for me today, but I am secretly grateful. It's still light but the sun drops quickly here so we rush back to pack away the carts and clean up before supper, which is another generous buffet. 

Our wire braiding is suddenly interrupted when we're all offered a chance to go blokarting - a type of windsurfing. I'm up for some adventure and in any case it's a welcome break from the wire. Little did I realise what it actually meant. We head over to a garage and remove what looks like some fairly innocent go karts. Then next come the sails. Massive sails. Only now do I realise how much the wind is blowing - it was just incidental before. But apparently they get plenty of wind out here - otherwise no point trying to ride it! So as they bring out the huge sails they're battling against the wind and keeping them from flying away. We are about to put these onto the go karts and sit on them. Something tells me this is not wise. There aren't enough karts for us all to go in one trip so Katarina takes the first group. Am I really going to send my daughter off on this contraption? I am nervous and excited. I try hard to calm any nerves I have. I pretend there's no ...

It's another long drive back but given the early start it's only just lunch. It's always an odd feeling to do so much and then realise the day has a long way to go. We settle down for a huge buffet and have about an hour to relax before we start some real work. In groups of  four one person is assigned the braider and the other three are given very long lengths of recycled fence wire. The wire is very tough and frequently tangled with smaller pieces that tie it together. A hand in the wrong place and the wire will cut. We wear gloves but still our arms are bare. It feels much warmer now but difficult to tell if it's the sun or the work. Karl finds a speaker and we play some music to pass the time. It's dull work but also something new. Importantly though it's very clearly conservation work. We're recycling fence wire. It takes about an hour or so to complete one length (about thirty metres) and to produce one coil of triple braided wire.

As ever, it's the trees that have it. Given the scale of this plateau, indeed this country, the numbers of trees are quite small, but when you do see one they are not forgotten. There's no forests here of anonymous dopplegangers. Every tree here is unmistakable. There's the majestic specimin standing proud boldly competing with its distant cousins and the mountains. Or the tree that almost didn't make it but will probably still be going long after I've had my time.  And finally there's the tree that is burdened with an abundance of life. Weaver birds make vast nests that they share with snakes. While the snakes might occasionally steal an egg or a chick, they do more good fighting off the bigger predators that might want to have a go. A wildlife mafia of sorts.

Finally the ground levels and after a hundred metres or so more of rubble that still wants to trip you up we finally reach the flat sand. It's a very welcome relief. I've never felt so happy to be just walking. It's a long way back to our drive and I'm falling behind the whole time trying to catch as many photos as possible of this landscape. This is just the first morning here but at every turn I feel as though I might never see it again. I don't want to forget.

Sadly for our research, we find no poo. Despite circling the peak of this mountain and looking into small openings in the rock, all we find are very old scat and nothing new. We are told there is a possibility the clan of hyenas that were here may have moved on. Unfortunately, the descent is nothing like the climb. Those rocks that were our friends on the way up now become our mortal enemies. And it's relentless. Almost every step is on to something hard, something unstable, something that gives way. There is no peace as our ankles and knees get a pounding. I'm still recovering from that long hike only two days ago so this is hard work and I'm desperate to reach flat ground.

Heading up the mountain the scenery around begins to change. That sparse vegetation, the little strands of grass that stand maybe ten centimetres apart, suddenly take on a sheen that glistens in the sun. It's silky and dazzling. As I did going up the sand dunes of the Sousousvlei I carry with me my trusted 70-200mm lens despite the bulk weighing me down. Up here I'm grateful I have it. I just want to stop, sit down and keep gazing out at this landscape. I find it difficult to find the words but it's definitely an emotional experience. We've seen vast landscapes and plenty of mountains but it's perhaps the way the silky grass is abruptly broken by clearly defined mountains that creates the distinct beauty. Our car down below suddenly seems so far away... What is also very striking are the layers. There's the lines of manmade structures, the roads and fencing, but then the mountains and bushes all seem to follow a single direction. It might just be perspective.

It's a fast pace up the side of the mountain but relatively easy going. It's steep but there's plenty of rocks to give you grip. Going up the rocks are your friends. It's almost a staircase. Along the way we encounter a few of the smaller wildlife here, starting with a scorpion. It scuttles under a rock and we don't get any closer! This is followed by a small bird's nest. I was surprised it was just sitting here unprotected, especially given we're on the lookout for hyenas. But the landscape is vast and the fauna sparse, so I suppose that does provide some protection. Finally we catch sight of a lizard against the rock. Well some of us do. See if you can find it.

With the camera trap done our task now is to look for hyena scat somewhere in the local mountain. Most of the work here is about hyenas so the camera traps, the hikes, it's all about looking for evidence of hyenas. The moutains don't look so impressive at first, at least against the surrounding vastness. They are more like stacks of rubble left behind from a mine. But in the right light, the red sand jumps out and we are transported to Mars.

After a 30-40 minutes drive our first stop is a camera trap. Our task is to move it from a post that is held up by heavy rocks to one that is dug into the sand. Katarina is given a shovel and breaks the ground. But it's slow going. The first layer of sand is easy, but after that it quickly becomes more and more dense eventually to rock. We take it in turns and try to use the metal pole itself as a digging tool. We probably give up before the ideal depth, but the rock is eventually too much and we stack earth and sand around to keep it stable and attach the camera trap. Katarina uses the skills she learnt at the last camp and helps Georgie complete the camera setup and we all stand around for the first photo.

This conservation estate is vast. Just one side of the area is about 35km in length. And we are heading to one of those mountains that surrounds the main camp. It's a long drive. One of the first sights that strike us as we drive through the plateau is the grass. There seems to be a remarkable abundance of vegetation for a desert. We are told they had a drought for 9 years, which is quite common, but it rained in the spring the almost overnight this grass shot up. The first in almost a decade. So it would have looked quite different a few months back. Instead of a simple sandy dessert it looks more like the African savanna we are all used to in photos. On route we are treated to a few animal sights, but, like our last camp, they are few and far between. Most animals here are prey so they don't exactly hang around when a huge shiny beast comes roaring across the sand. Here are some ostriches and their young.

After breakfast we all have our chores, chosen by us on the white board. This morning we have chosen the mongoose so take out two small bowls with a fresh egg broken inside. There are two enclosures: one has a single mongoose, the other has two. They are friendly enough and excitedly dip their faces into the raw egg. Others are busy feeding the horses. All done, we get our bags ready for a hike. We are told, again in clear instructions, that we must carry at least two litres of water wherever we go. We're in the desert and the rules are strict.

As ever the morning begins early but I don't mind so much and really appreciate the bed and a room that isn't freezing. I even used the en suite shower which, although a little cold, was a luxury to do in the morning and with light. It's all solar powered here so lights are dim but do their job well enough. In the common room I get myself breakfast and watch the sun rise over the distant mountains. We seem to be in a plateau here surrounded by a ring of mountains. Anywhere you look is a photograph but here, staring out the window, I am dumbstruck as the sun slowly rises and everything shimmers. But we quickly realise there's a downside to all this beauty and seclusion. The internet. It's absent. They have only a small area (of a few centimetres) on one table where a connection is found a few minutes a day. Everyone leaves their phones there. Everyone is disappointed.

After our tour and a chance to pack we have a little time to relax and meet each other before supper. Up on a wall, by the entrance is this photo of Angelina Jolie (and others). Jolie was a significant benefactor a few years back and is still apparently involved in one way or another. As a charity they need all the support they can get. We find seats at the table and are treated to a large buffet. Unlike our last camp where plates are given to us, here food is served as a buffet and we fill our own plates. Karl gives us clear instructions on how we are allowed to take one plate and only after everyone has eaten can we return for more. And the buffet includes Oryx steak. That beautiful horned cow-like beast we saw a few times is just cattle here. Any why not, I suppose. It's slightly tough but difficult to tell if that's the cooking. We chat with the others and they seem like good people. Sadly with a larger group I wasn't expecting the same sort of bond. We all gather by th...

There was still daylight when we arrived at our new home (for the next week). Apart from Jo, who joined us from the last destination, we'd not yet had a chance to meet our new fellow volunteers. It was quite different group, about twice the size and younger on average. Also mainly young women. We were shown around the facilities and were quite impressed. There's one main building for the volunteers of which half is taken up but this living/dining room above. The doors on the far side are to our bedrooms and quickly we are gathered together by Karl who has run this place for years. He's a white German Namibian with a very dry sense of humour (and manner generally) and an accent that is difficult to pin down. He lists the rooms on a white board and begins to distribute them. I am quick to point out that Katarina and I are family and so we are given a room for the two of us. This is a very pleasant surprise. I was told we might end up in tents again and large dorms. The tents ...

After making the friends we did it was sad to leave and a little unnerving that we were to travel to a new place with entirely new people. A part of me didn't want to leave, but part of me was also excited about what the new camp would bring. But, our journey south very slowly began to reveal to us what our next week had in store. There's just one word: beauty. We never felt short changed in our first week and those Naukluft mountains never got boring but as the landscape changed, and the colours came alive, it began to dawn on me what they told us back on the first day, we had some surprises in store for our second week. They were not kidding. There's a subtlety to this landscape that perhaps we'd not seen previously. Those rugged, rocky hikes profuse with gnarly trees and thorny bushes were stunning but now it was as if some creator had used up the most exciting pieces in the lanscape kit and began to fashion something a little more thoughtful. The jawdropping cliffs ...

As we head south we get ever nearer to the Namib desert proper. Our last camp was borderline desert but now the sand clearly begins to dominate. Our friends up ahead soon disappear in the dust trails and any time a vehicle passes on the other side we're enveloped in a cloud. It's quite beautiful and a clear signal of where we're heading. Halfway we stop at a service station to use the toilets, freshen up and get some refreshments. I'm not really that hungry and we have plenty of water so I don't get much. We eye some of the trinkets but the prices put us off - but I also feel a little guilty not contributing. Then again it's difficult to know what is real and what might be repackaged from China.

We found ourselves in a 4x4 with Georgie, one of the coordinators (researchers) at the next camp. Katarina was at the back squashed between a pile of boxes. It was an open pick-up truck (not like this one ahead of us and magically it had proper suspension. I forgot what that felt like. Slamming every bump is not a necessary experience of every trip. While Katarina slept (or struggled to among the stacked boxes) Georgie and I chatted about the new camp and her own journey to this country, from her home in Australia (her accent is unmistakable). We're volunteers having a bit of fun, but of course for Georgie (as it was was Doug and Caroline) this is serious business. The volunteering just helps to pay - and provides some much needed manual labour.

Back from the game count I was hoping we just be able to chill but sadly that wasn't the case and we were immediately rounded up to watch the vehicles. Apparently it's a Friday routine before the volunteer changeover. It's no fun scraping out the sand and dried much from the floor of the truck and it must have taken a good hour between us. It was hardly my favourite moment, but then we had to earn our keep (well above the fees to be here). And then there was one more task, an online survey of the camp and the coordinators. I think Katarina and I were quite honest. It was a stunning place and a unique experience, but maybe we didn't need to turn every hike into a race I we could have got some more guidance. But it was a small price to pay in the end. With our bags packed and stacked against the wall we await the arrival of volunteers from the other camps. This place is more or less halfway between so as the three groups merge, they are divided and sent to their next dest...

OK so it's not a hunt, except in the spotting-animals sort of way. It's now become quite cold and sat on top of this open air truck the wind is biting. Doug and Caroline are sat warm(er) in the cabin and open their little window to speak to us whenever we see game. It's as tough as it was last time to spot little specks of dust moving against a terrain of nothing but dust. I think we do pretty well spotting a few zebra and even beat our hosts to the count on a couple of occasions. It really is sad to say goodbye to these mountains. We've been spoilt with such beauty.

And so our time at this camp is coming to an end and we wake to finish the packing we started last night while it was still light. Katarina's finger is healing well and it's difficult to believe it was completely impaled with a thorn from one side to the other. Can't imagine it being so clean if it was a rusty old nail. I'm busy trying to keep my own body together. After that hike yesterday, and many more the days before, my feet, knees and ankles feel like they've been wrecked on a medieval rack. A two minute daily exercise seems to help. For now. For our last morning we head to the truck once more and Angus does his usual routine of letting me get close and then running like I mean to kill him. I don't think I've even even touched him. He'll be missed by all of us.

And so our adventure ends as we return to our car and drive back to the main camp, about an hour or so. It's late afternoon and it's technically our day off (although my body hardly feels like that). We have time to shower and chill and also to pack for our next destination tomorrow. The sun drops quickly and the feast of the week awaits us. Every Friday is a huge brai (barcecue) and they weren't kidding - it is huge. An entire herd has been slaughtered to fill the table alongside roast potatoes and fresh dough to cook on the fire. It's our last evening here and we make the most of it with a steady supply of beer and chatter. It was a small and remarkable group of people. We feel so lucky to have joined this team. Arriving here without any idea what was in store, it was not just a relief but a real joy to share it with people we seem to have so much in common (even if I was twice their age).  

Just like today was optional, so was this additional walk. My feet and ankles were screaming no but we've turned nothing down so far, so after lunch we're back on our feet and on the rocks, another kilometre or through the desert. But maybe it's just what they need, my feet. The water is ice cold and I can't bare more than about thirty seconds at a time, but the treatment is just what the doctor ordered. About an hour of this and my feet were back to life. The others felt the need to jump in. I had no such desire.

Sitting back in our vehicle my feet are celebrating with a bonfire and fireworks. Don't get me wrong it was so satisfying to complete that 7km path downhill and I'm so happy we did it, but wow I need some rest. We drive a short distance in this wilderness to a small restaurant that appears out of the rock and sand. There's not much too it from the outside, but inside (and why didn't I take a picture?) it's a whole different world - like a piece of some posh high street was lifted and planted in the Namibian outback. We remained outside and unpacked out lunch. Yes, all that walking and it's only just lunch. It's another feast with beer to top it.